


The Right Moment

by Frumpologist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 8th year, Falling In Love, Fluff, M/M, Post-War, Resorting, Slytherin Harry Potter, admission of feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:33:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28203912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frumpologist/pseuds/Frumpologist
Summary: For most of his life, Harry Potter knew not the safety he could find in the arms of another person.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Blaise Zabini
Comments: 7
Kudos: 185
Collections: FoTR's 2020 Secret Santa Drabble Exchange





	The Right Moment

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GhostIsReading](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostIsReading/gifts).



> Happy holidays to GhostIsReading - thank you so much for the fun and inspiring prompts. I truly hope this is a gift you’ll enjoy!
> 
> Thank you, mcal, for pre-reading as I flailed about. 💛

There was something soothing about being bracketed by a pair of strong arms. A warmth, a comfort, which couldn’t be replicated by any other means of touch. For most of his life, Harry Potter knew not the safety he could find in the arms of another person, but rather how important it was to hold everyone at a distance.

He didn’t want people to be his safety net. Other people were fallible. He’d learned as much from his mentors. Love was the greatest force in the world, but it was also cruel, chaotic, and messy. Years as The Chosen One—both during his formative years and following the fall of Voldemort—had proved it time and time again.

But now, lying wrapped up in strong, dark arms, with a hard, broad chest at his back, Harry thought perhaps he’d judged too soon. He didn’t know this was possible. To feel entirely at ease with his back turned to someone, to know they’d never hurt him or plot his downfall. It was easy here with Blaise—quiet and content.

Blaise had been the first to apologize. To search Harry out through the rubble and raining ash in the courtyard. Blinking at the floor and offering words Harry had longed to hear from someone. Anyone. Simple, but nearly brought him to his knees with the force of his need.

“Potter,” he’d breathed, finally bringing his rich brown eyes up from the floor. “Sorry for everything, and thank you.”

_Thank you._

The gratitude rolled around his head, growing larger and brighter as it settled amidst the doubt and uncertainty. He wasn’t sure how to respond, and so he gave a sharp nod. A forced lift of his lips.

What happened after was a series of events which rocked the very foundations Harry had built his life upon. An eighth year at Hogwarts, a resorting, a surprise as the hat laughed in his ear and proclaimed him a Slytherin through and through.

Something had changed inside Harry; being Gryffindor somehow felt like a lie. Sure, he was brave, but Harry had spent years undermining authority, utilizing resources in efficient and creative ways. Even more than that, the bravado and lightness that seemed to chase through Gryffindor house no longer resided inside of him. Usefulness, determination, accomplishment—those were the things that had begun to matter more.

Every once in a while, it felt wrong. As if the universe had conspired to ensure he’d never have it easy; he’d always have to chase that happily ever after. Unlike the rest of his friends who somehow managed to find theirs immediately post-war.

“You’re doing it again.” Gentle, hoarse whispers filled his ear and blew his raven hair onto his cheek. “Quit thinking so bloody much.”

Turning in Blaise’s arms, Harry grimaced. “Do you ever feel like it’s all been a lie?”

The brick-like frame molded to him stiffened. Blaise flicked his gaze around Harry’s face and let loose a slow, deliberate breath. “All of what?” he asked tentatively.

Harry brought a hand to Blaise’s face, resting it against his sharp jaw. “Not this,” he assured him, swallowing back the swelling emotion clawing up his throat. “How’s it possible we lived through the last eight years? I shouldn’t have—”

“It was meant to be,” Blaise said, voice strong and sure, brokering no room for argument as the steel bands of his arms tightened. “If it weren’t for your unfortunate history, this wouldn’t have happened. I never would have gotten to know you, been able to fall in love with you.”

Harry’s heart ground to a halt. His breathing stilted. Mouth drier than ash. He licked his lips, fingers clenching on Blaise’s cheek. “You haven’t said that before.”

With an awkward shrug, he smirked. “Was saving it for the right moment.”

“And that’s…now?”

“Better now than when you talk yourself out of this—us—for the hundredth time.” Despite his playful words, vulnerability laced itself in his tone.

Not sure what to say—love wasn’t a word he’d known most of his life—Harry decided to act, as he’d always done when faced with hard moments. He pressed his lips lightly to Blaise’s mouth, holding his breath as Blaise’s body relaxed and melted into his kiss.

It wasn’t the perfect kiss, but it was filled with all the words Harry struggled to say.

_I love you, too._

_I’ll never leave you._

_Thank you for loving me._

And still, when they pulled apart and lay in the still darkness blanketing Blaise’s four poster bed, Harry was beginning to believe that perhaps, just this once, the universe had given him everything he needed.


End file.
